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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27535729">Adventures of a Mer-Chaser: Seeking Solace</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DirtyScrolls/pseuds/DirtyScrolls'>DirtyScrolls</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Affection, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blackmail, Bloodplay, Come Marking, Consensual Sex, Dacryphilia, Dark Brotherhood (Elder Scrolls) - Freeform, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Dom/sub, Drugging, Dunmer (Elder Scrolls), Fantastic Racism, Foot Fetish, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Knifeplay, M/M, Mention of Necrophilia, Morag Tong, More Than Usual, Non-Consensual Blood Drinking, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Groping, Non-Consensual Kissing, Non-Consensual Somnophilia, Non-Consensual Touching, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Poisoning, Punishment, Rape/Non-con Elements, Riding, Switching Places, Thieves Guild (Elder Scrolls) - Freeform, Torture, brief fantasies of murder and necrophilia, brief fantasies of vampirism, electricity specifically, ok minor plot, sorta - Freeform, yup there is some of that</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 16:13:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,034</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27535729</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DirtyScrolls/pseuds/DirtyScrolls</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After the end of a hard night in a vengeful Dragonborn’s bed, an ex-Morag Tong assassin finds consolation in the arms of a gentler lover.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Brynjolf/Ravyn Imyan, Male Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Ravyn Imyan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Adventures of a Mer-Chaser: The Dragonborn and Ravyn Imyan</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Adventures of a Mer-Chaser: Seeking Solace</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Thanks to “J” and “I’mLikeALightSwitch” for their fun suggestions. </p>
<p>I apologize for the unusual delay in releasing this one. Real life and work stuff sorta got in the way of Kordin’s shenanigans. </p>
<p>As usual—say it with me—please heed the tags. And feel free to make comments/suggestions.</p>
<p>The rest of the Ravyn Imyan collection is here: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Ravyn_Imyan</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kordin tugged Ravyn Imyan’s handsome dark head to the side and gave him a biting kiss to his down-turned, soft mouth. He could taste sour saliva; perhaps it was the taste of pain. The Dunmer’s eyes had not lost their hot red shine, enhanced by the candles and the moon filtering in through the window.</p>
<p>“Wait here, love,” the Listener said, laughing to himself.</p>
<p>He picked up both his ebony dagger and his shock-enchanted dagger from the floor, wiping each off with a cloth he dampened at the washbasin. He coated the ebony weapon again with paralysis poison.</p>
<p>“I gotta move you again,” he said, and he made a nick with the dagger in Imyan’s strong smooth grey biceps. </p>
<p>The Dunmer almost immediately went limp, sagging in his bonds. The sight of him, all his lean muscles slack, went straight to Kordin’s cock. Once more, he was tempted to keep cutting. </p>
<p>He touched Imyan’s silky-skinned throat, thinking for the thousandth time how it’d feel to slice into the vulnerable vessels under there, bathe his hands in the ex-Morag Tong assassin’s warm blood, red as his eyes. </p>
<p>Loose him from his shackles, his strong quick limbs no longer a threat, reduced to something merely ornamental. Kiss his leaking neck and unmoving lips, suck his remaining life as he penetrated his unresponsive, unresisting hole.</p>
<p>As he sometimes did, Kordin briefly considered the advantages and potential pleasures of the bloodsucker’s path, about which he’d sometimes quizzed Babette. Too much of his non-secret life, unfortunately, was lived during the day—his Thaneships, his duties with the Companions, his bounty-hunting—so he had never asked her to try giving her “gift” to him. </p>
<p>Besides, if such a thing were to happen, Kordin would greatly prefer to be overpowered by some handsome mer, one with a good strong cock to spear his ass with as he sucked his heart’s blood out.</p>
<p>Kordin shuddered with renewed lust. He untied Imyan’s legs from his shackled arms and stretched the elegant limbs so he was lying prone, thighs spread to reveal the back of his sack and a suggestion of his tempting cleft. The Listener ran his first two fingers up and down the split between the elf’s pert grey ass-cheeks, then cupped the balls gently. </p>
<p>The paralyzed Dunmer just lay there. Kordin fingered the slick, abused hole a little, lost for a moment in fantasy. </p>
<p>If he decided to end this, maybe he’d do it alone rather than at the Sanctuary. He imagined a shadowy clearing, surrounded by dark pines, illuminated partially by scant moonbeams through branches, the place fragrant with deathbells and loud with Imyan’s last cries, the sound of him choking on his own blood, then only the slurp of Kordin’s cock in the mer’s oiled hole.</p>
<p>Maybe he’d want his prize for himself alone. He’d want Ravyn Imyan in his arms and on his cock all night, or at least until he got too rigid to use. The ex-assassin would end the night with his cooling guts full of his killer’s come, his dead lips ragged with bites and kisses.</p>
<p>“You’re simply perfect,” he said into Imyan’s beautifully-flared ear, though the mer could not hear the praise.</p>
<p>He realized he didn’t have much time before Imyan would be able to move again, so he got up and tethered his slim ankles to the foot of his bed, so the Dunmer was spreadeagled, face-down, delicious ass and elegant back up.</p>
<p>He caressed his lean musculature as he waited for him to come to, lost in his reverie about pounding the grey-skin’s corpse into the floor of that imagined half-moonlit clearing, on a night just like this.</p>
<p>Imyan groaned as he returned to the world. He looked back at his rearranged body, then at Kordin’s contented face. He groaned again, lower this time.</p>
<p>“I have an idea for you, my sweet whore,” said the Listener. “Don’t know why I didn’t think of it before.”</p>
<p>Imyan gave him a tired stare over his shoulder.</p>
<p>The Nord smiled at him. He took up his shock dagger and sat by Imyan’s tethered, gorgeous grey feet. He took the left one lovingly in his hand. It was flawless, long and graceful. He massaged it, gave the toes a slavering lick, to Imyan’s clear displeasure.</p>
<p>He stuck the arch with his enchanted dagger, making Imyan’s whole body seize up sharply, and provoking an agonized shriek. Imyan looked like a man taking a harsh blow from a lash. </p>
<p>Blood oozed from the cut on the soft arch. Kordin lapped it away, then kissed each of Imyan’s toes even more slowly, wetly. His feet were clean, but sweaty from wearing his boots. The scent and taste only bolstered Kordin’s arousal.</p>
<p>He took up the other lovely foot and cut it in the same place, drooling as Imyan’s limbs jerked, his muscles tightening, twitching helplessly in his bonds. Kordin smiled, licking the bleeding foot-sole.</p>
<p>“Used to do this to recalcitrant Thalmor boys sometimes,” he said, thinking of an Altmer man he’d had to extract information from—a delight with a well-built body, golden hair to match his skin, and big well-sculpted feet. “Works just as nicely on pretty little Dunmer, it seems. Wouldn’t you say, dear?”</p>
<p>Imyan was gasping loudly, his sweaty hair in his face as he looked back at Kordin, his eyes frenzied with the strange pain that had coursed through his body.</p>
<p>“Please don’t do that again, Guildmaster,” he said quietly, his gasps receding slowly, his breathy desperate voice further stirring Kordin. </p>
<p>“Why not? You look so fucking lovely with your body writhing like that. And let me remind you that you deserve everything I give you tonight. Who crept up on whom in bed with a dagger, my love? Hmm?”</p>
<p>Of course, he didn’t give the elf a chance to answer, instead sticking his foot again with the blade. Imyan tried to kick in his vigorous fit, tried audibly hard to bite back a hoarse scream. The Nord held his foot tightly, anchoring him and giving it a long lascivious lick, sucking at the warm rich dribbling blood, nibbling the long pretty grey toes one by one. The Dunmer’s foot curled and he tried to pull it away.</p>
<p>“You were made for this, Imyan,” the Listener chuckled. “Just made to be tied and tormented all night.”</p>
<p>He moved to the top of the bed and lifted the mer’s head by his heavily-mussed, come-crusted hair, so he could see his wet red eyes and face, to he could lick those salty drops and kiss those exquisitely slanted eyes.</p>
<p>“But since you so dislike it when I use the shock,” he said, chuckling “I think I’ve come up with another way to play with you.”</p>
<p>“By Azura, Guildmaster,” said the ex-assassin in his flat, defeated voice, “I said before, just kill me. Just stop.”</p>
<p>“Oh, no, no, my grey beauty, I’m having far too much fun with you now just as you are.” The Nord kissed the back of his victim’s neck, “I think you’ve given me one of the finest nights of my life. I thank you. Truly.”</p>
<p>He left him again, prone on the bed, limp with the aftermath of the shock torture. </p>
<p>The Dunmer craned his head to watch his tormentor over his shoulder as the Nord went to the place where Imyan had dropped his own fine Elven dagger, the one he’d meant to use on Kordin. Kordin picked up the glinting weapon and examined it.</p>
<p>“It’s as lovely as you are,” he told the mer, running a fingertip very lightly over the edge. “Mmm. Just as sharp. Just as dangerous.”</p>
<p>He returned to the bed.</p>
<p>“What--what are you gonna do?” asked Imyan, his exotic eyes wide with dull dread.</p>
<p>“You’ll see, dearest love.”</p>
<p>He sat on the bed beside the broad top of Imyan’s silken grey back, rubbing his neck, his tightly-muscled shoulders and biceps. Imyan looked away again. </p>
<p>As the Listener caressed his warm flesh with one hand, he used the other to lightly tickle the intrepid grey-skin’s back with the keen tip of the weapon, loving the mer’s shuddery reaction as he ran it up and down his backbone.</p>
<p>Then he smoothed his hand over the upper back, just below the shoulder blades. Imyan stiffened, ever so slightly.</p>
<p>Kordin began to use the tip of the well-sharpened blade to carve a word in the common tongue, his own special word of endearment for Imyan—what he was to the Listener.</p>
<p>Imyan flinched more and more strongly as this proceeded from the slanting lines of the “W”,  to the straight lines of the “H”. Kordin was trying to decide whether he was more turned on by his prey’s attempts not to react or by his increasingly free displays of pain. </p>
<p>He stopped his work to kiss and suckle the trickles of velvety-liquid blood from the shallow wounds in the ashen back, licking directly into the cuts. Imyan squirmed as Kordin’ tongue invaded the sensitive tissue just beneath the outer layer of his skin.</p>
<p>“You taste so good, look so good like this, I might just have it in me to come again.”</p>
<p>Imyan did not react.</p>
<p>Kordin made the “O” look like a diamond, four connected slashes, just as shallow as he could over the man’s backbone, while still drawing blood.</p>
<p>Imyan gritted his teeth and stiffened his body at first, then could not help yelling.</p>
<p>Kordin chuckled. </p>
<p>“Don’t spare me your sounds, gorgeous. I already know how tough you are. You can let go for me. Housecarl’s used to it.”</p>
<p>He went straight to knifing in the “R”, using slanting lines to suggest the rounded top.</p>
<p>Imyan tried to hide his sounds in the pillows, but once more his pain was too much, just as the Nord finished the penultimate letter, and the Dunmer groaned through gritted teeth, stretching his neck. </p>
<p>Kordin pressed close against his victim’s warm bleeding back, getting the hot sleek liquid on his chest. He pulled his captive’s head up by the hair and bit the tip of his ear, lapped and probed at it with his tongue. His hard cock rested against the elf’s firm ass.</p>
<p>“Gods, you really are a gift,” he said, kissed the Dunmer’s hair and neck, then moving to his bleeding back, where his mouth made quick, hungry work of the smeared and oozing blood. </p>
<p>The “E”, four straight slashes, made the mer bite the pillow and let out a few muffled whimpers, as if the sensation were too much for him to make louder noises.</p>
<p>Kordin again licked the red salty fluid like someone the Dawnguard should be hunting. His cock was dripping. It seemed the skooma from earlier hadn’t left his system yet; a resurgence of euphoria flowed through him along with the excitement from the taste and feel of the blood in his mouth. </p>
<p>Not wanting to bother with anything more elaborate, Kordin placed his cock-shaft along Imyan’s greasy crack and rubbed himself off rapidly between those pert buttocks, adding to the mess as pre-ejaculate oozed from his prick. When he was ready to come, he pulled back and shot his load on Imyan’s bloody back, getting a little on his neck and in his already-crusted, sweaty hair.</p>
<p>Imyan was still and silent, his head down and buried in the pillows. </p>
<p>Kordin leaned forward and kissed one of those pretty pointed ears, whispering, “I’m gonna fix you up a little now, handsome. I don’t want scars on that pretty body. But we’ll both know what was here. You’ll feel it under that beautiful skin, and we’ll both know what happened, my dear, won’t we?” </p>
<p>The Nord summoned his limited reserve of magicka and cast a healing spell over the words carved into the ex-assassin’s back, making him wriggle, leaving it silky-smooth once again. He lifted each beautiful foot and closed the small wounds on the soles as well. Then he wet a cloth at his washbasin and tenderly wiped the drying blood. He left his ass-crack and his hair and neck dirty with seed, however.</p>
<p>“I’m afraid that’s all you get in terms of washing, love. You’ll have to go back with your slutty head all clotted with my come. But it could be a lot worse, couldn’t it?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Kordin allowed Imyan to leave Honeyside shortly after, the elf severely humbled and ready to drop from exhaustion. </p>
<p>He ordered the subdued and limping Dunmer to go and wait in the Cistern, unless he had a job from Delvin or Vex, or risk having his night-time actions exposed to the Guild. </p>
<p>He watched him dress, with an approving expression at his stiff, shaky attempts to approximate his usual confident way of moving. </p>
<p>He kissed him hard as he let him out of the house.</p>
<p>“Wait for me, dearest. Perhaps the rest of your punishment won’t be so bad, if you do as I say.” </p>
<p>Imyan turned away with his lovely head and crusted sweat-damp dark hair hidden under his hood. He moved in the direction of the Guild’s secret entrance and didn’t look back.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Brynjolf looked up as Ravyn Imyan entered the Flagon the following evening. He’d seen him come in that morning and fall into his cot, but not since.</p>
<p>His face had a look of chagrin, and his lower lip was plumper even than usual, as if he’d taken a blow. He was just as clean and sleek as ever, though. Looked like he had bathed not long ago. He sat at the bar and Vekel brought him alto wine, which he drank directly out of the bottle.</p>
<p>Brynjolf strode up next to him and smiled as the elf looked at him. Ravyn gave him a flicker of a smile in return.</p>
<p>“What’s the trouble, lad? A job not go your way?”</p>
<p>“Could say that. I barely got out with my life.”</p>
<p>“It happens to the very best of us.”</p>
<p>Brynjolf got himself a mead. He held it up, meeting Ravyn’s beautifully slanted eyes.</p>
<p>“Here’s to better luck next time.”</p>
<p>They clinked their bottles together and drank.</p>
<p>“Wanna take our drinks into the Cistern?” Brynjolf asked after a moment of quiet, lowering his voice a little. </p>
<p>Vekel was talking to Vex, who was bitching about the temperature of her ale. Delvin was paying Sapphire for a break-in. Cynric, Niruin, and Rune were playing cards and talking recent jobs. It was the tavern’s busiest time. </p>
<p>“I’d like to be alone with you. If you want to, that is.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Brynjolf had Ravyn’s pants partway down, and Ravyn was on his side moaning as the other thief’s hand wandered from his prick and around his hip to his ass and found a dark tender spot. A bruisy bite-mark he noticed even in the dim light.</p>
<p>“What happened here, lad?” </p>
<p>“Guildmaster likes to play rough. I--stayed--at his house in Riften the night when—the night of the             job.”</p>
<p>Brynjolf remembered Kordin taking his mouth off Ravyn’s cock for a moment to demand to be fucked harder, to have it hurt. A strange one, but damn handsome, with a quiet but almost-arrogant charisma. Brynjolf had obliged him, pounding into his Guildmaster and pulling on his braided blond hair until his superior groaned, coming on Brynjolf’s firmly-thrusting prick.</p>
<p>“Hey, I like to play rough too, some, but this is a really big bruise, lad--” Brynjolf whistled. “Do you really like it? Seems too much for my tastes.”</p>
<p>“I like your way better,” said the Dunmer, lifting his wine to his swollen mouth. </p>
<p>Then he put it down and kissed Brynjolf, cupping the back of his head. Brynjolf was a little surprised at the elf’s forwardness. He didn’t seem to much enjoy making the first move. The redhead kissed back gently.</p>
<p>Ravyn smiled after they’d finished.</p>
<p>“I had a Nord Guildmate, you know. Dead now. Line of duty. He was the odd one in our Hall, being an outlander. A real charmer, good with words and good-looking. Exotic. That helped a great deal in our—line of work.”</p>
<p>“Did you--?”</p>
<p>Ravyn took a deep drink.</p>
<p>“No, but I damn sure thought about it. He only fucked around with men when he had to do it for a writ, though. Kept to himself a lot, too, except for a few women he’d take to the inns, not that he did that often. He was more devout than a lot of the native Dunmer around. Zeal of the convert.”</p>
<p>“Never was a religious man, myself,” Brynjolf said, thinking of Karliah, himself, and Kordin at Nightingale Hall. </p>
<p>Thinking of Nocturnal. She’d been good to him lately, to all of them. </p>
<p>“Not much, anyway,” he added.</p>
<p> The elf drank again, then wiped his mouth on the back of his slender, clever hand.</p>
<p>“I was.”</p>
<p>“Mephala, right? You said you killed in her name.” Brynjolf laughed nervously. “I have to admit I don’t much understand it, lad.”</p>
<p>Ravyn offered one of his graceful shrugs.          </p>
<p>“It’s like how you Nords have your brawls and challenges,” he said, “Your ways of settling things.”                                                                                                                                                                                                                 </p>
<p>“Yeah, I guess we do.” </p>
<p>Brynjolf crawled on top of him and pressed his lips to his neck, above his collar. The Dunmer smelled intoxicating as ever.</p>
<p>They undid each other’s armor and dropped it to the floor, pausing to kiss as they removed the pieces. Brynjolf noticed other bites on the mer, but said nothing.</p>
<p>“I wanna fuck you while I’m looking at your handsome eyes,” said Brynjolf. He stroked under those intense red eyes with his thumbs. “Then I want you to do me.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Not long after, Brynjolf had Ravyn Imyan on his back and was gently rocking into his slicked-up, well-prepared opening. </p>
<p>He’d noticed the handsome mer was a little red at his rim, and that he’d winced harder than the last time at the intrusion of the redhead’s first oiled finger. Gentle as it was. </p>
<p>The Guildmaster’s doing, no doubt. The man ought to take into account the Dunmer’s size, and temper his enthusiasm.  Ravyn was strong, no doubt, but there was no denying he was smaller than either Nord.</p>
<p>Not that Brynjolf himself found it that easy to curb his lust around the elf. </p>
<p>He fucked Ravyn open in slow, gradual movements, balancing on one hand while using the other to stroke his mouth, trace his open luminous eyes, comb through his hair. Even with the slow going, the intriguing elf felt indescribably good and tight inside. </p>
<p>“You doing okay?” the Nord gasped. </p>
<p>Ravyn nodded, his eyes opening wider in slight pain as Brynjolf inched in.</p>
<p>“I’ll go slow,” Brynjolf promised, as he kissed him gently, fingering his pointed ears and oiled hair. He moved in yet further, pulled Ravyn closer.</p>
<p>“Wanna sit on me, control things a bit more? Or maybe you can do me first, instead?”</p>
<p>“I’ll sit on you.”</p>
<p>Brynjolf rolled them over, ever careful of the elf whose body held him in its hot, slick clutch.</p>
<p>“Good, lad?” he asked, settling them so that Ravyn could establish his own pace.</p>
<p>“Very good.”</p>
<p>Ravyn took him in and pulled off. Took him in and pulled off. </p>
<p>And continued. Continued to ride Brynjolf cautiously but steadily, looking directly at him with burning eyes. Though they maintained eye contact, the mer seemed to be thinking of him almost without care for Brynjolf himself, almost like he was a toy, the kind one might buy from Grelka when other people weren’t looking. </p>
<p>Imyan’s face was transformed with his own deep pleasure as he eased himself on and off, down onto Brynjolf’s painfully erect shaft, and up again. Whenever he pulled away, it left the redheaded thief momentarily bereft. He wanted so badly to thrust up into him, but Ravyn held his shoulders firmly, pierced him with his hot eyes, seemed to need to dominate the pace. He pressed them together and bit the redhead’s pale neck. It hurt.</p>
<p>“Oh,” Brynjolf said, smiling into shining slanted red eyes. “you really wanna use me tonight. Gonna treat my my ass to something similar when you’re done with my poor cock?”</p>
<p>“I’ll do whatever it’ll take to make you want to beg,” growled the elf.</p>
<p>Gods, thought Brynjolf, I want to hear him sound like that again.</p>
<p>“I’m close to begging now. I just want you. I want you around me. I want you moving—oh, just like that—on top of me—oh!”</p>
<p>Ravyn was speeding up, his erect cock bobbing wildly between them as he moved.</p>
<p>“Please make me come,” said Brynjolf, in a small breathy voice.</p>
<p>Ravyn clenched his ass, looking hard at the Nord thief. He thrust down onto his lover.</p>
<p>Brynjolf saw and felt the tight grey body on his, relished the tight sensation of Ravyn’s hot little dark hole using his cock.</p>
<p>He gasped hard, giving up his seed into the man riding him.</p>
<p>They rested for a few moments, Ravyn’s prick still insistently hard against his lover’s powerful but lithe Nord thigh. The bed was going to be sticky with come by the time they finished, but Brynjolf was more than willing to take care of the laundry tomorrow. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ravyn Imyan prepared his lover with care, almost too gently. Brynjolf asked for a second finger, and for a few frustrating moments Ravyn only stroked the side of his crack with his middle finger, teasing him. </p>
<p>Then he worked the slender digit into Brynjolf’s ready hole, laughing in a low lustful way when Brynjolf rolled his hips back and moaned, “Another please, sera”.</p>
<p>Ravyn gave it to him, probing into his hot body a little less gingerly this time. The redheaded sighed deeply.</p>
<p>“Please,” gasped the Nord, “Go on.”</p>
<p>Ravyn laughed once more, a soft short laugh, inserting another finger.</p>
<p>“More?”</p>
<p>“Gods, yes! Just fuck me, already.”</p>
<p>“You sure about that, Nord?”</p>
<p>Brynjolf gasped as Ravyn’s fingers reached deep. He chuckled hungrily.</p>
<p>“I certainly am, Dark Elf. Just try me.”</p>
<p>The thrust was surprisingly harsh, but it resulted in a wonderful warm burn and fullness. Brynjolf arched his back and stuck his ass up on offer for the elf, who took the invitation seriously and began to fuck the redhead deeply, holding onto his hips with both hands. Brynjolf heard himself whine in helpless ecstasy as the slim long cock found his sweet spot. Ravyn gave a little devilish laugh at his lover’s noises. </p>
<p>“Do me harder, sera. Come inside me, please. Fill me up.”</p>
<p>Ravyn sped up, hitting him in that just-right place again and again, putting greater power behind each thrust. He’d been hard since he’d started riding Brynjolf, so the Nord thief did not expect he’d last long, but right now—the intense pain-pleasure of the present, of being utterly taken—was all that mattered. He moaned his approval.</p>
<p>Soon, he felt the elf pulse inside him and release his hot seed. He was sorry to feel him pull out, but strangely gratified at the warm dripping mess inside him.</p>
<p>Ravyn turned him over. Brynjolf felt the come leaking lewdly from his ass onto the bedclothes, but hardly had a chance to think about it before Ravyn dipped low and began kissing along his erect, sensitive shaft.</p>
<p>“Oh, you don’t have to. That’s just been inside you, lad.”</p>
<p>“I want to,” the Dunmer said gruffly, going straight back to what he’d been doing.</p>
<p>His mouth was as hot and greedy as his cock had been, kissing and lapping at the head, then engulfing the shaft as if it were the best-tasting thing he’d ever had. Brynjolf took handfuls of the elf’s hair in his hands and hung on as his cock was expertly stimulated by that hot wet eager mouth. Every few moments, Ravyn would look up and meet his eyes with his blood-red ones, making everything that much more intense, that much more intimate.</p>
<p>“I’m going to—oh! Lad, you’re so good, so fucking...”</p>
<p>He shot down Ravyn’s throat with a strangled cry he couldn’t believe had come from his mouth. Ravyn swallowed everything, then allowed Brynjolf to pull him up on top of him, kiss him, taste himself.</p>
<p>Too tired to clean up or dress, the two thieves wrapped themselves in Brynjolf’s blanket and fell into a restful sleep, limbs lightly entwined.</p>
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